


and the bird sang over the sails, and the wind cried mutiny

by icannothinkofaname



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Character Study, Drabble, Gen, why am i here? why am i writing this? i have better taste than this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24794497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icannothinkofaname/pseuds/icannothinkofaname
Summary: Peter didn't learn what god he worshiped until he was an adult. But the Lonely is only painful if there's something there to leave.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	and the bird sang over the sails, and the wind cried mutiny

**Author's Note:**

> i genuinely don't know why i wrote this but i sure did.

Fittingly, the god Peter worshiped would never make its presence known. In a long line of people whose names and faces eventually disintegrate into nothing, no member of their family is enough to turn its gaze. It’s why they thrive. Deep in the recesses of the moorlands, their god ignores them and they forsake it in turn.

His parents tell him that, at least. But the statue hidden beneath the house brings up the memory of a rabbit.

Who knows how it had managed its way over the gates, or survived on the dried out plants dotting along the mansion’s landscape. But it was there, almost like it was waiting for Peter that day. He was a young child, still being weaned onto the comforts of loneliness, and he thought nobody would notice if he snuck it inside. People in that house barely noticed anything. And if they had, they never said anything.

He can’t remember exactly what it looked like, or the probably ridiculous name he’d given it. But that day, and the feeling of companionship in that empty house stuck out in the blur of memories. The day seemed lighter. Clearer than anything he had ever experienced.

The rabbit was gone the next day. Dead, or missing, or had just decided to move on, he couldn’t be sure. But the feeling of having something that he loved disappear enveloped him. It was as if an endless nothing had replaced the world around him, holding him close and shunning out the rest of the world.

The feeling was gone before he could even register it. But the mark of his god lingered on his breath.

He started to seek out his family. At least, the ones who would soon be gone. They shined in the fog of the Lukas estate, with their loud voices and weak dispositions. He didn’t talk to them. Just watched. Memorized their habits. Judith talked to herself, when she thought nobody could hear her. Aaron made up stories and filled them with hundreds upon thousands of characters. Like a ghost, Peter hovered at the edge of their lives. Not touching, not entering. But close enough to see, and know, and feel their impact.

They were both sent away eventually. Each day they left, he likened it to a sacrifice. And each night he dreamt of an empty beach.


End file.
